


A Kink He Did Know He Had

by pulangaraw



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-28
Updated: 2010-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-12 06:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulangaraw/pseuds/pulangaraw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossdressing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kink He Did Know He Had

**Author's Note:**

> Hibernia1 prompted me with "crossdressing".

"Excuse me, darling, would you happen to have a light?" a sonorous female voice asked from behind John. He held up a hand to stop Harry from talking for a moment and turned towards the speaker. The woman was taller than him, with dark brown hair that fell in waves over her shoulders and shadowed her face. She was wearing a dark-blue satin dress that made her look glamorous, almost too fine for a run-of-the-mill corner pub.

John smiled and dug in his pocket for his lighter. Even though he'd stopped smoking shortly after he came back from Afghanistan - cigarettes were bloody expensive in Britain - he still carried one out of habit.

"Sure." He held it up and lit it for her, wondering if it was worth attempting a flirt with his sister standing next to him.

"Thank you." The woman bent forward, the light illuminated her face and John... well, John gaped.

"Sherlock?!"

"Hello, John." Sherlock said, still sounding distinctly feminine.

Harry leaned forward to look, then started laughing. She punched John's shoulder. "And here I was, thinking I'm the only queer one in the family."

John glared at her, then turned back to Sherlock. "Why the hell are you running around dressed as a woman?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd be so narrow-minded."

"I'm not-" John started, then stopped himself. "You know what? Never mind. Why are you here?"

"I came to see you. I solved the case. Lestrade just made the arrest."

John thought for a moment. "Which case?"

"The one with the drag queen bank-robbers." Sherlock waved a hand. "I don't think I told you about it. You were somewhat... preoccupied." He looked pointedly at Harry.

"Are you trying to look like a drag queen? 'Cause if that's your aim, you're not dazzling enough. Where's the big hair and the glitter?" Harry said, narrowing her eyes at Sherlock.

Sherlock regarded her coldly. "My aim was to look like a cross-dresser. If I had wanted to look like a diva, I would look like one."

John closed his eyes, counted to five in his head. "Okay. Fine. Can we all be civil now, please? Sherlock, why are you here?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you are done yet. How long is this reunification going to last?"

"Wow, you really are the jealous type, aren't you." Harry interjected, "You know, John, if I were you I'd find someone less clingy."

John turned around. "Shut up, Harry. And you too," he continued, pointing at Sherlock. He grabbed Sherlock's arm. "Look, Harry, we'll continue this another time. I'll call you."

She waved a hand at him and reached for her beer, already turning away. "Yeah, whatever. Take care of yourself."

"You too." John said and steered Sherlock towards the door.

"Don't forget the take the tights off again," Harry shouted after them.

\-------------

"You couldn't have waited for me to come home?" John asked as soon as they were in a cab and on the way.

Sherlock shrugged. "I was curious."

"About my sister?" John shook his head. "You could have just asked me if you could come along, you know."

"Yes, but where would the fun be in that?" Sherlock smiled. He brushed a strand of hair out of his face and John was struck again by the fact that Sherlock was dressed up as a woman. He remembered Harry's parting shot and glanced down at Sherlock's legs. He was indeed wearing tights.

And make-up. Very well applied make-up that made his eyes stand out and his lips look full and lush. John fought the urge to run his fingers over them - to just bend forward, bury his hands in that long, fake hair and kiss that lipstick right off Sherlock's mouth. He could just see the image in his mind - Sherlock, wig askew and lipstick smeared, looking wanton and debauched, but his eyes shining with mirth at having finally broken John's resolve.

John swallowed and tore his eyes away from Sherlock's attire, watching the streets go by instead. Sherlock - for once - stayed silent and seemed content to just wait until they reached their destination. But John was sure that this wouldn't be the end of their little game of cat and mouse. Over the last few weeks, Sherlock had made it pretty clear - as clear as someone could get without openly propositioning - that he was interested in taking their arrangement to another level of intimacy, and while John was everything but not interested, he was still reluctant to take Sherlock up on the offer. It was one thing to live with Sherlock Holmes. Sharing his bed - John was sure - would be opening a whole new can of worms.

Just the fact that he'd turned up today - and John still wasn't completely convinced that this mysterious case had actually been real and not just an excuse for Sherlock to confront him in a dress - in such a getup spoke volumes about how much he already knew about John's weaknesses. John had no idea how he'd found out - or guessed - about John's occasional proclivity to hook up with cross-dressers, but obviously he had. And it was doing quite a number on John's ability to think clearly.

The cab dropped them off in Baker Street and they made their way up into the flat, still without speaking. Sherlock took the stairs in front of John, swaying his hips as he walked and John almost told him to stop it. But somehow the words got lost before he could utter them, his mind too focused on taking in the shape of Sherlock's buttocks underneath the dark-blue satin.

When Sherlock reached up and took off the wig the moment they stepped into the living room, John cursed himself silently for that third beer he'd let Harry buy him. Sherlock in drag and without the fake hair - his natural curls an unruly mess that John just wanted to card his fingers through - was even more of a turn-on than Sherlock properly made up. John shifted involuntarily, unable to look away.

Sherlock must have heard him, because he turned around slowly and smiled suggestively. "If it's not too much of a bother, would you mind unzipping me? It is rather uncomfortable to bend my arm this way."

John knew this was a bad idea, knew he should get out of here before he did something stupid - like bend Sherlock over the desk and fuck him - but he just couldn't find the strength to resist this time.

"Sure." John stepped closer and pulled the zipper down. The room was so quiet when the dress slid down Sherlock's body that John could hear the whisper of cloth against skin. He swallowed hard.

Sherlock turned around, then, looking at John with dark eyes and it was the look of pure want on his face that broke John. He reached out, curled his hand around Sherlock's neck and pulled him down.

"Come here," John whispered, just before he pressed his lips against Sherlock's.

The kiss was chaste for maybe a few seconds before Sherlock's lips parted, his tongue demanding entrance to John's mouth. John closed his eyes and gave in.

\------

John was still basking in the afterglow of a fantastic orgasm when Sherlock said, contemplative, "Who would have guessed that a dress would be all it took to finally get you into bed."

John smiled against Sherlock's chest. "You know what they say. 'Crazy people make even sane people act crazy'."

He could feel Sherlock's resulting laugh all the way to his toes.

The End


End file.
